


Illicit Reminiscence

by infernoforte



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hyunwoo - Freeform, Kihyun - Freeform, M/M, Sad Ending, Shinhoseok, Showki, Slight kiho, Sohnhyunwoo, Sonhyunwoo, Tragedy, Wonho cameo, Yookihyun, hoseok - Freeform, monstax, repost, shownu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernoforte/pseuds/infernoforte
Summary: Men, with money, they waste.





	Illicit Reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondthoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondthoughts/gifts).



> Reposted, no reason to take it down when it's a gift in the first place.

Back in November 2006, Kihyun is sick.

After someday he doesn't manage to remember, he gets the idea that he has depression, just like the doctors have said. He wakes up in the hospital bed, pain in his eyes and head, or perhaps he only wants to neglect things. He doesn't know why, but he is crying in his dreams, in his room, in his heart and everywhere that is dark.

The night scares him, so he turns the lights on. The dim hallway haunts him, so he stays in his room all night. The shadows tint his fear, so he has night lamps in every corner of his space.

He hates himself for being timid, the world is nothing intimidating but he is afraid of something he didn't quite understand. As though every time his lids drop he would see an unwanted reminiscence clawed by the veil between present and past.

He never remembers, until one day they invite him to a concert.

A concert, where there is peace, life, and the drain of lethargy. He wants to go, wishes to.

The evening has a cocktail of purple and perhaps red, or orange that Kihyun was sure he can't tell. Strangely, the sun feels hot, scorching his skin now bared, but it sets as fast as his epidermis prickles. Before the shadows creep in, he enters the stadium.

He isn't sure where to sit, but someone has already assigned a seat for him, he doesn't know who that is or why he ends up there.

Soon the draught gushes in and denizens pile up in the crammed musicale, a stranger makes himself comfortable beside Kihyun, the strong temper of his cologne instantly permeates the air, urging Kihyun to choke.

Kihyun has the habit of forgetting the parts and crumbs of a hap, but he can swear he has recollected every single puzzle piece he finds in the stranger. Despite this is the first time they met, for Kihyun.

"I'm Shownu." The stranger holds out a hand, skin gleaming off like a metal in the blinding spotlight, his brow twitches and he lets out a half-hearted smile. It seems to want to spread, to yearn for a deep one. A sincere one.

  
Kihyun just nods. "I'm Yoo Kihyun." Then he mumbles Shownu's name several times before staring back at him again.

"In Chinese, Shownu means to protect."

Kihyun stays silent.

The concert starts when Kihyun dreads to tear his vision from the stranger beside him, at some point even after the concert, he thanks the world over and over again even though the place is swelthering with congested throng, his temples beaded with perspiration, his eyes feel dry while blinded by the flare onstage.

For Kihyun, every concert has a climax, and that was when the non-possibilities becomes chances, when things happen through dreams and reality is confused with contrivances. The moment is silent, dry leaves form a circular motion in the air at a nearby amusement park, out there it's dark.

That is then.

His hands are at his sides, he recalls Shownu on his right. Then his bare, cold hand feels warm, he doesn't notice until they are sweating. At first he thinks Hoseok, his best friend from high school probably slipped him gloves before dropping him off, but the slight brush between curves and veins suggests it's wrong.

Shownu holds his hand, since hell knows when. But despite it is awkward, to which Kihyun finds rather unimportant, he entangles them both together. For the unusual tranquilty he finds, and the tingle of fluff in his heart.

They enjoy the concert without words, and until the end Shownu grips his hand real tight.

At last do they part.

"Follow me." That is when the concert ends, it is raining in the city, but Shownu's eyes are twinkling. Kihyun makes no move except pacing after him.

Although this may be the first time they meet, Kihyun gets the idea that Shownu doesn't talk much. Given the surprise that Shownu is the one speaking first a few hours ago, the rareness hits him.

It dawns on him that he doesn't really know where the reckon-to-be stranger is taking him, whilst he does what Shownu says. When he says follow, Kihyun finds his own feet stride, his heart races, the bustling city sings, autumn blows across.

They end up loitering around the street vendors, sidewalk booths along the asphalt with the aroma of coffee and steaks all fumbled in one, hauls and harangues all mingled into one to become the unexceptional clamor of a random Seoul's after dusk.

When Kihyun is asked if he likes dumplings, he doesn't hesitate to say yes. And it astonishes him when he isn't particularly fond of it, but Shownu's questions are too indulging.

A meal is all they get, Kihyun knows when they finish their late supper. One thing he doesn't struggle to deny is, in an obnoxious way, that Shownu would consider taking him elsewhere other than stalls, that a mayhem won't so much come true if they know each other a little more through a more significant affair. Kihyun hates himself for having desirous thoughts, which never seem to have really gotten into the other.

They laugh, talk about all sorts of things, like how did you find these they're so good or can you believe I have depression it sucks, they laugh again, Shownu keeps his smile up all the time. The diffusing scent of chicken and lambs originating from barbeques gets between them, the ambience swelthering, the noise undying, but all Kihyun determines is to say something more and Shownu's visage lucid. Time soon comes to an end.

After the smoke has all stained on his white shirt, eyes blinded by the cluster of spotlights at the hockey field, they head back and what Kihyun manages to remember, is that Shownu walks in the opposite way of where he himself goes. After confirming Kihyun has a driving licence and that he hasn't threw it away, or went into the shit, all sorts of things.

Before he leaves, Shownu gives him a small cube with complex wrapping, which he called it a tiny "souvenir". Kihyun tucks it in his pocket. They don't say goodbye because Kihyun turns away before the other (not stranger anymore) can say anything.

As Kihyun gets into bed at home, the souvenir jumps in his finger while he plays with them, unwrapping the paper soon after. The truth is Kihyun expects something else than a matte black USB lying in his hands, maybe a ring, only for remembering purposes except.

As he drives it into his laptop, he comtemplates which of the folders to open first, images or an audio clip. Before he knows it, he selects the former.

More than the fact that he can swear that in year 2015, as the date on pictures to pictures captured shows him, he has never gone to the beach, never ate the same dumplings from the same stall, has not known Shownu back then, all of the taken memories prove him wrong, so wrong that his tears are swelling and finally fall. Winter is approaching, but Kihyun feels heat and enthusiasm closing in. He scrolls through albums and albums, unwilling to believe these, all of these are what he has forgotten. What he has lost in a heartbeat. He wants to smack himself, curse for not remembering soon enough. That depression is not the issue, the absence of Shownu is.

Eventually he gives up wavering and chooses to stumble into the only audio present. Thinking whether things will be the same with Seoul drowning in the downpour as it has always been this whole year, his neighbour shouting all the bended lyrics about love with someone he didn't know from high school, the last breath of hydrangea surrounding his apartment, he punches the 'play' button.

"Hi, I'm Son Hyunwoo." The voice might be new earlier this afternoon, along with unpolished background noises, but he recognizes it to be from someone he has came across not long ago. To be precise, just now. "Or Shownu." In Chinese, it means to protect, Kihyun remembers.

"You might not remember me, not before you see our photos. You might be wondering why you're sick, I can tell you, and I can tell you why I left. It was my graduation day, I wanted roses. You went high and low searching for them, it was raining as usual. Perhaps I didn't deserve you, it was all my fault that you got into the crash. All the memories lost--they're not worth it. I'm only here because I owe you the truth, the truth that no one else wanted to tell you."

Kihyun breaks down, crying.

"Men can do almost everything with money. With wealth, they waste. And with you, I trifle. Luxury is extravagant, and some mistakes are irreversible even with endless atonement. Likewise, you won't forget me now. But stay away from me just because, losing you is my repentance."


End file.
